


Out Here In The Quiet Of The Night

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same [17]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Lunar Eclipse, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: You're still not used to the idea that he enjoys your company at all, let alone the concept that he may in fact want to watch the moon with you tonight.





	Out Here In The Quiet Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Help I still don't know how to tell where the line is between G and T. Rated T to be safe.

When he lands on the balcony behind you, characteristically silent as always, it's an effort not to flinch. You know he's _not_ actually here to beat you into submission again, but that doesn't stop the instinctive response. Old habits die hard, you guess. Especially since, despite inviting him over, you hadn't expected him to show up. After all, you're still not used to the idea that he enjoys your company at all, let alone the concept that he may in fact want to watch the moon with you tonight.

And yet, here he is. In the flesh.

Before you can say anything, he climbs onto the chair you'd set out beside your own, and you glance at him, taking in his neatly-brushed fur and unguarded expression. By his standards, anyway. On anyone else it would still be _closed off_.

If you look closely you think you almost see a _smile_ on his bill. That's rare, you _never_ see him _smiling_. It's a shame, really, because he looks so _good_ like this, when he's relaxed. So different from how he normally looks when he's thwarting you, the usual glares and clenched fists and seriousness. Not that you mind that either, if you're honest. Means you're doing something right. Or, well, _wrong_. You're Evil, after all.

The silence stretches out for a while, longer than you can usually stand, and somehow it's not as terrifying as it usually is.

And yet even that's too much after a while so you speak up with a "Ready, Perry the Platypus?", and he glances up at you. That is _definitely_ a smile, right there on his handsome face, and it has to be because of the moon right? There's no other reason he could be looking at you like that. Nope. No chance. You turn away, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Sometimes you wish-

But you shouldn't. Not now, not ever. You have a good thing going here, better not to _ruin_ it with feelings.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" you say instead, letting your gaze drift back to the clear sky and the bright moon right overhead. In the distance you hear traffic, because Danville never truly sleeps, the quiet hum of _civilisation_ you're almost used to now.

He chirrs in agreement, plopping his butt down onto the chair so his cute little feet hang over the edge. The moonlight reflects off his deep brown eyes and- You're staring again.

Then again, it's not your first lunar eclipse. Maybe his first, you don't know, he never said, but you're not missing anything you haven't already seen before.

A dark shape appears at the very edge of the moon, exactly when you'd predicted it. Beside you, he leans back on his paws for a better view. One paw, you can't help but notice, is agonisingly close to your hand. Too close. Practically touching already. It would be so easy to just _reach out_ -

You wrap your arms against your chest so you can't give into the temptation. It's for the best if he doesn't know how much you want his fingers wrapped around your own.

Instead, you stare up at the still-unfamiliar moon, like it'll spontaneously change back to the one that kept you company through altogether too many cold lonely nights as a lawn gnome, romantic dates that went nowhere, inator-building allnighters... "I don't know if I'll ever get used to this, Perry the Platypus." Out of the corner of your eye you see him glance up at you. "I guess I thought it would still _look_ the same, you know?" Or, well, you'd thought he would stop you. Didn't quite happen that way.

Has it really been a month since then? It feels like yesterday, or, well, not _yesterday_ , longer than that, probably a few days at the most, but it's a full moon again so it _has_ to be a whole month, right?

The shadow's noticeable now, about a fifth of the way across the surface. It doesn't stop the unsettling Not Right-ness of it all, the moon still looks _wrong_ with all the shadows and craters in the wrong places, but at least this time it's _expected_. Not like the first eclipse you'd seen, back in Gimmelshtump. _That_ had been terrifying, especially once the goozim showed up. Apparently they're more aggressive on blood moons, who knew?

In retrospect, there's not so much to _miss_ about the moon that was. It's all just tragic backstory after tragic backstory, an uncaring spectator to your pain. You'd thought it would always be there, taken comfort in the familiarity, but...

You're watching the _new_ face of the moon, with Perry the Platypus by your side. Maybe it's a sign, that even things that seem _unchanging_ won't be like that forever. That _you_ can change them if you just _try_.

Kinda gives you hope for the future. _Real_ hope, not the futile wishes you've clung to for the last... too long.

It's exhilarating enough that you turn back to him with a grin, only for him to glance away. Which, ouch. But you suppose the moon _is_ more interesting tonight. And that's what he's here for, the view from your building, not _you_.

Fully half of the moon's in shadow when you look back up at the sky, tinged in the red that gives it its name. There's an odd sort of beauty in it, actually, once you look past the wrongness.

You're struck, suddenly, with the urge to paint it. And you _would_ , except you sold all your art materials for inator parts three weeks ago so you have nothing to paint _with_ and even if you did you couldn't capture the eerie grace it has. All you can do instead is squirm in your chair, twisting your fingers together like that can quell the artistic itch.

He chirrs at you again, a question this time. You should have known he'd notice.

"I've never watched this much of one before," you say, because talking about your fears is easier than voicing your hopes. "Something always _interrupts_ and then I have to run for my life again, which is _not_ a good way to exercise, let me tell you. No time to _warm up_ , for one thing. I know what you're thinking, Perry the Platypus, but thwarting is different. I always make sure to _stretch_ before you come over. Got to be _ready_ for a fight, you know?"

It's not what he's thinking at all, and from the way he's narrowing his eyes at you he knows you know it. Sheesh, can't he give you a break? Sure, you _monologue_ about your backstories, but you write _those_ in advance!

And he's never laughed at them. Not once.

You hadn't realised that until now, not consciously, but now that you have it's all you can think about. He's never laughed at your backstories, at the pain you've experienced throughout your life. It's enough to make you, maybe, _hope_.

Quietly, haltingly, you begin to tell him about Gimmelshtump. The goozims and the ocelots and the unseen _things_ that screamed in the night and the time you lost your arm. Everything you can't say in the harsh light of day. You don't look at him while you're talking, can't bear to see his _pity_ , so instead you stare up at the moon as the shadow passes over it completely.

Before long your voice is rough and your eyes are burning and your chest is tight and his cute little paw is tucked into your hand, but you can't stop talking. You know if you stop you won't be able to start again, and you have to see this through to the bitter, tragic end. Hopefully _without_ sobbing into his shoulder this time.

At some point you bring up Charlene too, the way she used to listen but never really _understood_ , not the way Perry the Platypus understands you. It's not that you don't miss her, because you do, it's just... you never felt like you could be open with her.

Then, still too soon, the eclipse is over. You trail off as the flood of words dries up, leaving you drained and empty and exhausted and a little less lonely.

He squeezes at your fingers and you glance down, into his worried face. It still feels strange that he can care about you at all, let alone enough to worry, but in the returning light from this new face of the moon you think you could get used to it.

"Thank you, Perry the Platypus," you say quietly, because you really do appreciate him and everything he does for you, and he smiles softly at you.

That, you think, is the real wonder tonight. Blood moons come and go, even the moon itself is changeable, but when Perry the Platypus smiles at you like this, hand in yours... _that_ could be forever. You want it to be, more than you've ever wanted anything else. Some small part of you, deep down, dares to believe that maybe, just maybe, it _will_ be.

After all, he hasn't let you down yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Tl;dr gratuitous lunar eclipse fic, because I was bored while "watching" the super blue blood moon a few days ago (read: watching the clouds that blocked my view) and wanted something to pass the time. Also a couple other plot bunnies decided to get written in the process, so there's that.
> 
> Title from [Misty's Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_6f6DWp7Nk) because Pokémon will forever be an influence on my life.
> 
> As always, [Perryshmirtz-themed Discord](https://discord.gg/eEhRMq3) is a thing.


End file.
